Hermione's Many Men
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: Many fanfics have shipped Hermione with lots of Hogwarts boys over the years. Here is a combined compilation of some of the top guys Hermione could have possibly hooked up with. Some entries are obvious; others may surprise you. Enjoy!
1. Cedric Diggory

**Cedric Diggory**

Hermione headed briskly into the Prefect's Bathroom on the fifth floor, dressed in a one-piece bathing suit. She couldn't believe that Harry Potter was making her go here to open the dragon's egg for him and discover what the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament would be. He was the one Hogwarts champion; it was supposed to be his job. But, no, he was too busy getting homework complete and dreaming about Lord Voldemort. And Ron Weasley was no help either; he would not even acknowledge her after their row a few weeks prior about her going to the Yule Ball as the Durmstrang champion and international Quidditch player's, Viktor Krum's, date. He was jealous, plain and simple. Still, that very thought both exhilarated and frightened Hermione.

She entered the baths. Harry had received a clandestine tip from the other Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory, that the egg had to be opened underwater. Hermione waded into the nearest hot pool and sat on the ledge so that she was chest-deep in the water. She turned the egg over in her hands and pondered it. She had to admit it had puzzled her just as much as Harry. Finally, she shook her head and muttered, "I must be out of my mind." She was just about to dive under when a splash made her look up. When she did, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Cedric Diggory had popped up in the same pool, shirtless and in bathing shorts. He smiled a brilliant smile.

"Hey Hermione! What are you doing with one of the eggs?"

"I…Harry asked me to help him open it," Hermione replied, recovering from her shock, though she was still a little flustered. It was awkward to be conversing with the other Hogwarts champion when he was so…exposed.

Cedric, meanwhile, blinked in surprise. "You're helping him with a job that he should be doing himself? And you don't mind at all?"

"Well…no," Hermione admitted. She would do anything to help her best friend. Cedric must have thought this too, for he next said, "How loyal…and brave." He looked about for a minute. "Anything can happen in these baths…may I kiss you?"

Hermione snapped her head up, startled by the sudden question. "What?" she breathed, almost indignantly. Suddenly, Cedric was beside her, his arms around her.

"Ssh…don't feel rushed." Then he kissed her. It was a long and gentle kiss, yet full of passion. Hermione was stunned as he pulled away. _This is ridiculous, what am I doing here?_ _I am in the wrong place!_ she thought. She then surprised herself by grabbing Cedric and returning his kiss, much more intensely. Logic flooded her brain and she disengaged to get air.

"No this is wrong" she reasoned.

"Once again, please" Cedric encouraged, and kissed her before she could refuse. Hermione enjoyed it for a moment, and then squirmed away again.

"No, we musn't do this" she insisted. "You have a girlfriend, Cho, and I have…" she stopped herself from almost saying Ron.

"Viktor" Cedric guessed. Hermione did nothing to refute this incorrect hypothesis. "Ah, yes. Still, let's seize the moment. You know about that from all your adventures with Harry." He seized her and covered her mouth with his. Hermione kissed him back as he grandly carried her into the middle of the bath and sank them both beneath the waves.

Here, Hermione began to panic. Between kissing Cedric and being underwater, the only way for her to get air was through her nose and even that was limited. She was soon reassured, however, when Cedric cast a Bubble Charm allowing both of them to breath normally. Then, at that moment, a golden light illuminated the water around them. And Hermione heard singing. Both were coming from Harry's egg Cedric now had in a free hand:

"Come seek us where our voices sound. We cannot sing above the ground. An hour long you'll have to look, to recover what we took."

Even in the middle of snogging someone, Hermione found her brain to be functioning at its normal, hyperactive pace. In a matter of seconds, she had picked apart the riddle. Mermaids live underwater…something taken...the Black Lake! That's where the Second Task is! Overjoyed, she held Cedric tighter and depend their kiss, her eyes closed. It was her way of showing gratitude. _Thank you, Cedric,_ she thought dazedly. _Wait till I tell Harry!_ She released him at last and shot to the surface, gasping for breath. She stumbled out of the bath, gathered the egg and her possessions and left. She was in a daze all the way back to the Common Room.


	2. Viktor Krum

**Viktor Krum**

The end of the Hogwarts term had always been hard. But even the past three years could not have prepared Hermione Granger for the end of this, her fourth year. Hogwarts had hosted two other wizarding schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, in the famed Triwizard Tournament that year. It was made especially extraordinary because her best friend, Harry Potter, had been made an unprecedented fourth champion, and that the event had ended in tragedy with the death of the other Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory, and the supposed return of Lord Voldemort.

Now, as Hermione wandered about the front courtyard outside of the castle, looking for Harry and her other best friend (that's all he was…wasn't he?), Ron Weasley, she could see that the normally wide space was cramped with students in school robes. The Beauxbatons carriage would be departing soon, as would the Durmstrang ship, and students were using the precious limited time left to say goodbye to new friends made over this past year.

Hermione finally spotted her buddies standing cramped near the doors that led to the grounds beyond the courtyard. Their entire luggage stood around them in heaps. Hermione quickly joined them and set down her one giant suitcase and other smaller carry-on bag down beside the mound of their belongings.

Rather than shy away from the horror of the last few weeks, the Golden Trio instead focused on it while conversing with each other. Harry, Ron and Hermione had gained a reputation of being mystery-crackers and heroes at the school, so the magnetic pull of natural inquisitiveness was even greater than the long summer vacation that was mere hours away. Soon, however, lighter comments were made.

"Wonder how the Durmstrangs are going to get home?" Ron wondered. "Reckon they can steer the ship without Karkaroff?"

"Karkaroff did not steer," came a voice from behind them. "He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork." The trio jumped and turned. Hermione's heart also skipped a beat. There was Triwizard champion and famous Bulgarian Quidditch player Viktor Krum. He had also been Hermione's date to the Yule Ball (much to Ron's consternation). Clearly, he had come to say goodbye to her – something Hermione had, up until this moment, not thought to do.

"Could I have a vord?" Viktor asked her.

"Oh…err…yes, alright," Hermione replied, sounding slightly flustered. She could almost feel the heat coming to her cheeks. Viktor turned and moved away into the crowd. Hermione had no choice but to follow, only half-listening to Ron's warning that the horseless carriages would be here soon to take them to Hogwarts Station. She called over her shoulder to ask the boys to carry her luggage. Harry immediately dove for the carpetbag, so that Ron, to Hermione's amusement, could only lift her giant suitcase over his shoulder with a grunt and stagger after the Boy Who Lived.

* * *

Hermione followed Victor out of the courtyard and back into an empty corridor. He took her hand.

"Hermione," he began, struggling as he always had with the pronunciation of her name. "I vant to stay in touch vith you. You could vrite to me." He handed her a slip of paper with his address on it. Hermione nodded and smiled.

"Thank you, Victor. That sounds fine."

"Also," Victor added, and here, he seemed to flush. "I vas vondering…vould you like to visit me in Bulgaria. I have…never felt like this about anyone else before."

Hermione nodded slowly. She would actually really like to visit him in Bulgaria.

"All Bulgarian students, all aboard the ship!" a voice boomed out. Victor turned back to Hermione; he now looked slightly panicked.

"Sbogom, moya lyubov," he said. Then, he unexpectedly seized Hermione around her waist, pulled her close and kissed her right on the lips. Hermione's eyes bulged as their lips touched. She had her hands pressed against Victor's muscular chest. She had no idea what to do. True, she had snogged Cedric in the Prefect's bathroom, but that was different. Then, her wide-open eyes darted over to the left. Some girls, obviously fans of Victor's, were watching them. Their looks ranged from shock to envy to teary. Hermione realized this was an opportunity to show some that she was not the bookworm that everyone thought she was; that she had, in fact, changed this year.

"Mmmm…." she moaned, and leaned against Victor, snogging him right back. Exhilarated, Victor lifted her clean off the ground. Hermione cautiously wrapped her legs around his waist, and her arms snaked around his neck. She had had very limited experience with snogging up until now, but that did not mean she was not willing to try and explore.

Victor staggered forward until Hermione had been slammed up against the wall. They were kissing heatedly now. Hermione shifted her hands and cupped his face, her lips digging deeper against his. She closed her eyes. Snogging in general, not to mention snogging with a famous international Quidditch player, was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Yet, even as she kissed Victor, Hermione could not help but have one thought fly through her otherwise numb brain: _I'm betraying Ron; I don't want to hurt Ron…_

Victor and Hermione broke the kiss at last. Hermione was breathing heavily. Victor set her down, gave her a peck on the cheek. He repeated the words he had said before he had grabbed Hermione and snogged her senseless. Then, he ran for the ship. Hermione watched him go, fingers against her cheek and lips, hardly daring to believe what had just happened.


	3. Fred Weasley

**Fred Weasley**

Hermione reached Greenhouse Five with no trouble, despite the wintry storm that had been pummeling Hogwarts for a good portion of her fifth year. She could brave the January cold if it meant she would not get behind on any Herbology homework. The warmth of the greenhouse was refreshing and in sharp contrast to the bitter cold outside. Hermione quickly shrugged off her robe and was preparing to find a hook to hang it on when a hand took it from her.

"Allow me," said a voice and Hermione screamed. She had not expected anyway else in here. Fred Weasley was startled by her fear, but calmed when her fright turned into laughter.

"Sweet Merlin, Fred! I didn't think anyone else was in here!" Fred quickly apologized and hung her robe on the hook. Hermione was surprised to see a Weasley twin here of all places, and on a Saturday no less. Surely he wasn't studying? The Weasley twins had absolutely no reputation when it came to academics. When she asked, Fred claimed he was in fact studying, but she was not convinced. So great was her skepticism that she even lightly accused him of being sent down here to bother her by Harry and Ron. Fred swore up and down he was there on purely academic terms, and promised not to bother her as he sat down at a table.

Hermione warily sat at a table on the other side of the aisle, still unsure about Fred's presence. _Well, at least there's something nice to look at now,_ she thought as she took another quick glance at the redhead. He was scrawling notes across a piece of parchment while running his left hand through his messy hair, making it messier. Hermione leaned in a little closer to make sure that he was in fact doing Herbology work, but ended up admiring his long, nimble fingers. When she peered up again, she found Fred smiling at her, and she had to quickly avert her eyes to her textbook. She hastily opened her notes so she looked busy and drew a diagram of a Puffapod, labeling each part and sneaking a few extra gazes toward Fred.

"Did you need something, Hermione?" he asked with a wink as her brown eyes found his for the umpteenth time.

Hermione could feel her face turn the color of the Fanged Geranium petals as she stammered "Uh, no…I'm fine, thanks." Her face continued to burn with embarrassment as Fred stood and made his way over to her table.

"Well, do you mind if I join you? It's lonely over there." He pouted his lips, and there was no way Hermione could refuse. She moved her books and her plopped down in the seat next to her.

Hermione shook her head as Fred pulled out a few books and some diagrams. "I still can't believe you are doing actual school-related work," she told him, shaking her head.

Fred raised his chin. "I happen to care about my schooling, Hermione. And besides, some of these plants are pertinent ingredients for our Skiving Snackboxes."

"I should have known," she muttered.

Fred leaned in closer to her and whispered, "But if I would have known that I might have run into you here, I'd have stopped by more often."

Hermione's quill dropped out of her hand as she turned to face his bright smile before he casually returned to his book. It took a moment for the look of shock to leave her face. _"Calm down, clam down, he must be delusional or something,"_ she continually told herself.

Jerkily, she picked up her discarded quill from her lap, but bumped Fred's arm with her hand. They both watched as her quill soared through the air and landed behind some Mandrakes. Hermione stood to retrieve it.

"I'll help you look for it," Fred said. They both walked around the pots and spades on the floor and bent to pick it up at the same time. They collided as they stood and knocked an empty pot onto the floor. Fred and Hermione both watched in horror as the pot knocked over a humongous bag of soil. Their eyes grew wider as the bag bumped into a rake, which made a row of pots fall in line like dominoes. Loud bangs and numerous crashes echoed throughout the greenhouse as an effect of the chain reaction.

"Oh shit!" Fred exclaimed.

"Make it stop!" Hermione shouted as she watched the mess grow. Finally a tall, pink flower fell off the last table, and once again the greenhouse was silent.

"Are you all right?" Fred finally asked.

"Yes, and you?"

He nodded but looked distractedly over Hermione's shoulder. She followed his gaze and turned to find a trail of purple smoke creeping across the greenhouse toward them.

"What is that?" Fred asked as he took Hermione's hand and started to lead her away from the spreading haze.

"It's familiar, but I'm not quite sure," she pondered. Hermione froze in place and her jaw fell open as the purple wisps surrounded them. "Oh no…I think that's the perfume from a Venetian Lust Flower."

"A Venetian what?" Fred asked, but it was too late. He watched as Hermione reached toward and brushed his shaggy hair away from his eyes. He had no idea why she was touching him so intimately, but he didn't much care, because her soft fingertips felt like perfection. He began to feel a little dizzy as Hermione proceeded to press herself on her tiptoes and slowly lick her lips. Suddenly Fred wanted nothing more than to kiss her, so he did.

Hermione gasped as his lips crashed against hers in a powerful kiss that she felt throughout her entire body. She was very aware that she needed his lips, like her very being depended upon it. She needed more. As the perfume swirled around them, she pushed Fred back against one of the long greenhouse tables and pressed herself against him. He in turn wrapped his arms around her and snogged her until he could barely breathe.

"Hermione," he whispered her name against her lips. "What's happening?"

Hermione pressed herself further into the kisses, wishing Fred wouldn't try to speak. A small moan escaped her as he nibbled on her lower lip. His fingers, which she had rightly admired earlier, followed a lazy path down her back, finding the gap between her sweater and her skirt. He tickled her skin, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her head tipped back, exposing her neck for his lips to explore. "Why can't I help myself?" he asked, alternating his words with nips to her flesh.

"Oh! I don't know!" she gasped, inhaling more of the perfumed, purple mist that had managed to fill all of Greenhouse Five. "I want your lips on mine," she commanded, and immediately Fred did as he was told. Every time one had to pull away to take a breath, the other would quickly pull them back for more. It was a tug of war, and neither wanted to reach a goal and force an ending to their snogging.

Suddenly, Fred wrenched himself away from Hermione's kisses and held her at arm's length. Hermione, looking scandalized, reached for Fred and tried to get him closer to her. "Wait. I don't know what in the name of Merlin is going on here, but you need to know that I've wanted to do this for awhile now," Fred told her. After he saw Hermione's bright smile, he pulled her against him once more and gently cupped her chin in his palms as his lips met hers over and over.

In desperate need of more of Fred Weasley, Hermione practically lunged at him, causing them both to tumble to the soil-covered floor. Hermione giggled as Fred pinned her to the ground beneath him and nibbled at her lips.

Just as she rolled on top of him, the greenhouse door squeaked open, and they froze as they saw Professor Sprout hurry inside, leaving the door open in the process. She waddled to her desk on the far wall, still bundled up in her winter robes. Fred held Hermione against him, silently kissing the side of her neck while Hermione watched their Herbology teacher from her position on top of Fred.

Professor Sprout shuffled around, looking through her desk drawers, giving Hermione a chance to steal a kiss from Fred before putting her finger up to her lips, motioning for him to continue to be quiet. Fred quickly replaced her finger with his lips and they were quickly engaged in more snogging. Before they knew it, they heard the door close and turned to see their professor was gone. "That was close," Hermione sighed against his lips.

"Quite," Fred agreed, suddenly acknowledging that although he no longer needed to kiss Hermione, he still wanted to. Desperately.

Hermione glanced around and quickly stood, pulling Fred to his feet as well. "Look. The purple mist from the Venetian Lust Flower is gone," she commented, feeling sad that she no longer felt like her life depended on kissing Fred.

After she realized that Fred was covered in soil, she looked down at her school uniform and laughed. "We look awful!"

Fred leaned down and gently kissed her. "You look adorable." Hermione blushed at his words. Fred cleared his throat and continued. "I don't know what really happened, with that lust flower and everything. But I don't want to have to stop kissing you like that." Fred could feel that his own cheeks were aflame as well.

"We don't have to stop," she promised, accepting another kiss. "But we're both filthy," she added.

Fred examined his robes and sniffed his shirt. "And I smell like lusty perfume."

Hermione but her lip as she considered her options. She didn't want to leave Fred, but she needed to get cleaned up. "Meet me in Greenhouse One after dinner?"

"Deal," Fred agreed with a wink. "But only if you meet me in Greenhouse Six tomorrow afternoon."

They left Greenhouse Five, but both of them dashed back through the snow to Greenhouse One directly after dinner. This time, they did not need a Venetian Lust Flower to get the snogging stared.


	4. George Weasley

**George Weasley**

Hermione snarled as she scrubbed the desk. She could not believe George had been testing joke products in between classes and that it had blown up when she had tried to simply vanish it. Now she and George were stuck in detention. Worse, they had been arguing about each other's culpability when McGonagall stormed back in and scolded them for being loud. George had taken pride in being a nuisance, which ticked Hermione off. She scolded George for his sass, but he just shrugged it off.

"Now can we just call a truce?" he asked, holding out his hands to surrender.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "Why so you can feed me Canary Creams when I least expect it? Or jinx me when my back is turned?"

"I'm never going to be good enough for you, am I?" George asked, turning back to the stepladder and slimy window.

Hermione watched him return to his task. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing. Just forget about it and let's finish up here for the night."

Hermione was never one to let an interesting conversation drop. "I'm the one who isn't good enough for you," she protested.

George turned and looked down at her as she went into "full-on Prefect mode," as he liked to call it. "How exactly do you mean?" he asked.

She paced back and forth with her arms crossed. "Just because I like to study and read, you and Fred always make fun of me. And you test out your products right in front of me! You know I'm a Prefect; I can't just allow you to do that with no consequences!"

"Make fun of you? Hermione, we only want to loosen you up a little! Join the dark side and have a little fun!" he teased with a wink.

Hermione glared. "I'm only tying to get you to behave once in a while. Aren't you at all concerned about your future?"

George jumped down from the ladder, accepting the challenge she posed. "Honestly? Yes. We spent weeks making and perfecting the potions we needed to ensure that there would be no harmful lingering effects after the Puking Pastiles are used. I even joined Snape's extra-curricular Potions club to have access to the ingredients we needed. And I really hate to admit to you that I'm actually enjoying it, and I currently have an O in Potions. So, yes, I am in fact pretty concerned about that you blew up our supply of Puking Pastiles that we needed to have to open our own shop."

Hermione bit her lip. "Well, I am sorry that I ruined them, but can't you find another place to hand them out, other than right in front of me?"

George smiled. "Can't you just overlook our antics occasionally?"

"Can't you just behave occasionally?"

"Can't you just admit that our products are brilliant?" he asked with a grin.

"Can't you just admit that I'm being a good Prefect?" she asked with a smirk.

"Can't we just kiss and make up?"

Before Hermione could process his meaning, George kissed her gently, eliciting from her a startled misstep backward. George grabbed her around the waist to steady her, and Hermione involuntarily deepened the kiss as she grasped his shoulders for stability.

Sweet Merlin! She was snogging George! Hermione kissed him back with fervor, and George smiled against her lips as she parted them. He felt her fingers creep into his hair as he slid his tongue along hers. Neither of them could have guessed their pent up aggression for each other would end quite this way.

"Okay, you win," George gasped as he took a breath. "I'll try to behave," he promised with a wink, and Hermione pulled him back for one more kiss.

Eventually, Hermione breathlessly replied, "I'm going to hold you to that. Now let's get this done so we can get back to the Common Room."

George took her hand and headed for the door. "Let's just leave now."

"And ditch detention?"

"If I'm going to behave, it will have to start tomorrow. We have more snogging to do tonight, which may just convince you that misbehaving is more fun."

The rest of the week in detention wasn't so bad for either of them, once they came to an understanding.


	5. Severus Snape

**Severus Snape**

Hermione had awoken from a bad dream while spending the summer after fifth year at Grimmauld Place. She awoke and was unable to find sleep again, making her way down to the kitchen and sighed. Eyeing the cabinet containing all of the alcohol, she smirked and pulled out a glass of fire whiskey. She had never tried it before, but someone had snuck it into the Common Room several times so she had seen its effects. She poured a glass and downed the whole thing in one. Bad idea. She grimaced as it burned her throat, her eyes watering. She felt the effect immediately. She smiled, her head spinning slightly. What she hadn't expected, however, was to feel so darn randy.

Weighing her options, she made her way up the stairs to the small attic room. She opened the door, which, surprisingly, was unwarded. She smiled, seeing the sleeping man in the bed and stumbled over to it. Lifting the covers, she climbed into the bed and studied the sleeping man facing her. She leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips.

Severus Snape awoke to the feeling of something against his lips. His first instinct was to grab his wand, but he stopped, realizing what was going on. He, too had been drinking that night, from the same bottle, in fact. The evidence was the nearly empty glass on his bedside table (though that had not been his first). Not opening his eyes, Severus pulled the small body close, returning the kiss with fervor.

Hermione, feeling brave thanks to the drink, pushed the man onto his back and moved to straddle him. She ran her hands down his bare chest and moved to kiss his neck.

Opening his eyes, Severus smiled. He had had this dream before…several times, in fact, and it was one of his favorites. Just like his previous dreams, Severus ran his hands down the girl's sides and pulled her nightie over her head. He felt himself get hard as he took in the sight of her perfect body, much more beautiful than he had seen it before.

Hermione bit her lip and sobered up, just enough to realize what was happening. "Professor, I…" she began when his lips claimed hers once again. Tears sprung to her eyes as she attempted to push him away, hitting his chest repeatedly. "Please, stop.." she begged.

Severus glanced up at her, his eyes going wide when he realized he was not dreaming. Hermione Granger was, indeed, on his lap with her shirt missing. She was also crying openly. Severus crawled out from under her and pushed her shirt into her hands, working hard to cover his erection. "Miss Granger, what on Earth are you doing here?!" he yelled.

Hermione choked on her sobs. "I…I thought I was ready," she cried, as she pulled her nightgown back on. "I…I had a drink…downstairs." She bit her lip. "I woke up from a bad dream and I had a drink of firewhiskey and it made me." She stopped, blushing. "I'm really sorry…"

"Get out!" Snape yelled. "Go back to bed! Get out!"

Hermione opened her mouth to apologize again, but stopped and turned, leaving quickly. She made her way back to her room and warded the door, lying on her bed. Sighing, she pulled herself together. Snape had lighted something within her. He made her feel warm and gave her butterflies. She pulled the covers up tight and cried herself to an uncomfortable sleep.

* * *

A few months later, Hermione had just left a class when she ran into Snape. He led her into his empty classroom when she conveyed to him that she needed someone to talk to. He seemed to have forgotten the escapade from the previous summer. Still, it had been on Hermione's mind for a while.

"Professor…I just want to apologize for my actions-"

"You made a mistake…please, let's just put that in the past."

Hermione smiled and hugged him awkwardly. "Oh, thank you, Professor!" she said. Severus embraced her, noticing that the hug lasted longer than was appropriate. The girl stepped back and smiled weakly. She glanced up at him, blushing. Severus cleared his throat and nodded.

"How was the rest of your summer?" he asked quietly, not knowing what else to say.

"Uneventful," she said, quietly. "And you?"

"Much the same…" he said, stiffly.

Hermione bit her lip and looked up at him. "I'm not going to lie and tell you that I don't have feelings for you…" she said, suddenly.

Severus glanced up, surprised. "Miss Granger…this is…completely inappropriate," he said, though his feelings were much the same.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing!" she demanded.

Despite all his years as a spy, Snape could not lie to her. "This is extremely inappropriate," he said, trying to avoid the subject.

Hermione moved closer to him. "Tell me you feel nothing, and I'll never mention it again."

Severus growled. "I would not be able to allow these…feelings…even if they existed."

Hermione stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, her hands clutching his stiff, black robes. Severus stiffened at first, but relented and responded to the kiss out of desperation, his hands moving to Hermione's waist.

"No!" he said, stepping away. "We cannot do this."

"Please!" Hermione begged. "I need this! I care for you…I feel safe with you. When I'm with you, I don't feel afraid," she said, tears falling down her face.

Severus knew his actions were wrong, and that they would be punished by death if they were found out. Despite, he moved forward and pulled the girl to him, kissing her again. Hermione smiled into the kiss, feeling safe and at home in his arms. At last, Hermione pulled away and looked at her professor. He looked just as confused and as frightened as she did. Seeing the emotion on his face shocked her. She ran a hand along his cheek, and he sighed.

"Hermione…" Severus began, but the girl shook her head and pushed a finger to is lips.

"Don't…just…let it happen…" she whispered, before kissing the dark man once more. Severus, once again, responded to the kiss, his hand sliding down her side to rest on her hips. Hermione tensed at first, but relaxed when his hands persisted no further before her hands along his chest.

"Hermione…we need to stop…"

"Why are you resisting?"

"I'm not resisting…we just need to stop." Severus responded, his cheeks flushed.

"What are you tal - oh!" she gasped as he pushed his hips against hers, his arousal against her thigh. She stepped back and looked at her feet.

"I'm sorry," Severus added quietly.

Hermione shook her head. "Don't be…" she said, never looking up.

Severus pushed a bit further. "Were you afraid? Of me? Just then?" he added at her clueless expression.

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head. "No. Not of you…it's stupid" she said, turning away from him.

"It's not stupid," Severus piped up. "It's natural."

"I don't want to be afraid…" she added quietly.

Severus took a deep breath and glanced at the door. "Let me take away your fears…" he offered. Hermione blushed and bit her lip, tears in her eyes. The potions professor took the girl's hands in his own. "I will not hurt you…I promise." Hermione nodded slowly. Severus smiled and kissed the top of her head. He warded his classroom door and led her to his private rooms….


	6. Cormac McLaggen

**Cormac McLaggen**

Hermione was miserable. Then again, she had been this way for weeks, ever since Ron had started going out with Lavender Brown and making her insanely jealous. To get back at him, she had agreed to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with a man he despised: Cormac McLaggen. Cormac was treating her like a trophy and not a date - there was no doubt that he was physically attracted to her, but that was not the love she was looking for.

After a dance, Cormac guided her over to the side of the room. He stared at her and his eyes became soft. "Hermione…" he said.

"What?" she asked, trying not to sound annoyed. Cormac just bent toward her. Hermione then saw the mistletoe above their heads that he must have seen ages ago (why else would he have brought them to this spot?), but it was too late. Cormac grabbed her by the waist and kissed her forcefully. Hermione squealed in protest and struggled. Finally, she broke free. Enraged, she slapped him hard across the face and ran into the crowd of dancers.

She had never done anything violent like that since punching Malfoy third year. Finally, she found a tapestry and hid behind it. But she was not alone. She jumped when she saw Harry behind there as well.

"Hermione? What are you doing?"

"Oh, I just left Cormac…under the mistletoe…" Hermione explained breathlessly. Satisfaction came to her as she thought how that would surely get back to Ron. "Oh no, here he comes!" she thought aloud as she saw Cormac making his way over. She heard a rustle as Harry ducked out from behind the tapestry, probably to avoid interacting at all with McLaggen. McLaggen appeared behind the tapestry and Hermione jumped. He was drunk as a skunk.

"C'mere hot stuff and give me a proper kiss," he warbled. He seized her roughly by the shoulders and kissed her hard again. His one hand moved to her waist while the other kept her head in place. Hermione wriggled for a moment before realizing it was no use. Then, she got an idea.

"Mmmm…" she moaned sensuously as she began to respond to the kiss. She pulled Cormac closer to her and she could feel his mouth turn upward in triumph against her own. Hermione again felt a wave of satisfaction. This was her own little way of getting back at Ron, the ultimate payback…even if her choice of kissing partner was a total arse.

As she kissed Cormac and let her body rub against his to distract him, Hermione reached behind his back. There! she could feel it, in his pocket. Expertly, she nicked Cormac's wand from out of his back jeans pocket, even while still snogging him, and raised it up. She pressed her mouth in further, deepening the kiss while she used nonverbal magic. A bolt of red light hit Cormac square in the head. He drooped unconsciously against her, out cold. Hermione pried her lips free of his in disgust, untangled herself from his embrace, and pushed his sagging form away before he fell on her. Cormac fell backwards onto the ground with a THUD! Hermione quickly found his half-empty goblet on the window ledge, and manipulated it into his hand, setting him up as passed-out drunk. Then, she took out her wand, cast Obliviate on him, returned Cormac's wand to his pocket, and stepped out from behind the tapestry. Even if getting back at Ron had felt good, she did not want word of her and Cormac's "romance" to get out, for anything in the world. Which is why she waited until she had left the party far behind before wiping her mouth over her sleeve.


	7. Draco Malfoy

**Draco Malfoy**

The Horcrux mission was not going well. Hermione had been unable to focus on anything: not the locket, not the putting up of the shield charms around their camp, not even her true love Ron. A certain blond-haired boy, who had perversely shown affection towards her in a fit of anger the year before, distracted her…

Unable to clear her mind, she announced she was going for a walk, ignoring the protests of the boys as she stalked out of the tent. She would take down the shield charms momentarily to get out, but she would not go far.

As she wandered the woods, who should appear but him, cloaked, head down. After a moment of indecision, she revealed herself to him. He explained he was running from his Death Eater brethren at Malfoy Manor. She explained how she was helping Harry (which she suspected he had learned long before). She didn't know what possessed her to trust him enough with that secret, although it probably had something to do with the confused feelings that had been broiling inside her ever since just after the first of the year. She invited him to come back to their camp, despite Malfoy's protest that "Potter or Weasley" wouldn't want him there. She didn't care. She had no intention of revealing him to them.

They returned to the camp and Hermione warded the place. Leaving Malfoy hiding at the side of the tent, she went in and grabbed some supplies, telling the boys that she would take the first watch. She rejoined the Slytherin outside and waited until she could hear the steady breathing that told her the boys were asleep. Noticing Malfoy pressed up against the tent fabric and shivering, she offered her blanket to him, apologizing that they would have to share.

"I don't need you to stay with me." He grabbed the blanket. She noticed that he was still shivering and wondered how long he was outside.

"I have the first watch," she snapped back. "I'm not staying with you."

"If no one can see or hear you, why do you have to watch?"

"If someone does come, we have to be ready to leave." Hermione sat down on the ground, near Malfoy, but have turned away. A few minutes passed this way in silence.

"You're just a Mudblood, a filthy Mudblood," he said finally, and her cold hands curled into fists.

"How dare you," she began, but he hadn't finished.

"So why can't I get you out of my head?" He spat the words out, almost angrily. It was dark, and she couldn't see him, but then there was rustle and she imagined that he had turned to look in her direction.

"Do you think I want you in my head?" she asked. "It's easier to hate you, to wish you weren't here right now. But-" She stopped, before she could say that sitting next to him, imagining his hands on her body, was making her want to close the distance between them, pull his head down to hers, wrap her legs around his waist.

More movement happened. She could feel him fumbling against the ground, next to her, but then he found her, and his hand closed awkwardly over hers. "I don't like you. I don't know you. But when I see you, I think of you naked on a desk or a bed, and I want you again and again" he said and her blood burned.

"I don't like you either," she said, isolating the statement that she could deal with. "But I don't hate you anymore."

"I suppose I don't hate you either, Granger." His hand was cold, like hers, and she pulled it closer to her, resting her leg on top of their clasped hands.

"Did you shag Weasley?" he asked suddenly.

"No," she said, trying not to laugh and cry at the same time. She had shagged a Weasley, but not the one he was thinking of…despite that she desperately wanted Ron to shag her.

"Who, then?"

"That's none of your business, Malfoy," she said primly. She thought she could almost hear his sneer, but then he snorted, and it was so uncharacteristic, so out of place in the dark and cold, that she laughed too, even though she knew he was laughing at her.

Later, she couldn't remember who made the first move, but suddenly she was in his lap and his hands were on her waist and their lips were pressed together. He bit her lip and a small sound escaped from her mouth. Again, he bit her, harder this time, and she moaned. Desire gathered deep within her and her hips twitched involuntarily, moving against him, and she felt him growing hard. She moved off him and tugged at his robes until he was free of them and then stroked him with her fingers, feeling him. There were stars and a sliver of moon, but she couldn't see much under the cover of trees.

If Malfoy could see her clearly, she didn't know if she would do this, but the dark made her bold, and she pushed him back, to lean on his hands, and she bent over and dragged her tongue down the length of him, eliciting a groan. She closed her mouth around his cock, moving her lips and tongue against him. He smelled and tasted of sweat, but not unpleasantly so. Hermione didn't know what she was doing, exactly, she had only found a few books on the subject, but he was breathing heavily, and she decided that was a good sign. His cock was hard and filled her mouth, pressed against the back of her throat. She was struck by how completely he was in her power at that moment, and with that thought, she felt wetness spread between her own legs.

Spurred on by his ragged breathing and occasional groan, she gained confidence, bringing her hand up and wrapping it tightly around the base of his cock, moving her fingers up and down along him, sliding them along the wet tracks of her own saliva. His breath came in gasps and her mouth was just getting tired when he sat up. She sat back, but he reached for her, his hands brushing against her knees, traveling up to her thighs, then finding her waistband, catching at empty belt loops and prying at her clothes. Hermione reached down to undo the button herself, and as soon as it was undone, Malfoy pulled her jeans down, hard. She was cold, and shivered, but then his hands were on the insides of her bare thighs, and the skin under his palms warmed quickly.

He brought his head down and she felt his hair brush against her stomach. It tickled, but her body contracted, tingling with arousal.

"I don't think I smell very nice. I haven't showered -" she began, but he cut her off.

"You smell foul. I smell your dirty blood." Hermione didn't know why these words sent burning trails of desire up her spine, instead of the anger she should have felt, but then Malfoy was pushing her legs roughly apart, and his face was between her legs, and she didn't care anymore. His tongue was nothing like Ginny's. Their awkward exploration last summer, incited by boredom and a bottle of old wine, was not entirely clear in Hermione's memory, but she did remember the delicacy with which Ginny trailed her tongue across various parts of her body. It was slow and excruciatingly sweet, and all Hermione wanted to say was "faster" and "harder". Ironic, that Malfoy was only the…seventh man she had ever kissed in 2.5 years, yet her first time had been with a woman.

Malfoy didn't have a technique, exactly, but he made up for this lack with force, and she inhaled sharply as he plunged his tongue into her. Her squeak of a gasp seemed to encourage him and he moved his tongue inside her. His fingers brushed against her, pressing and rubbing and then he switched, his fingers inside her and his tongue licking up to the spot at the top where she was most sensitive. She didn't know how many fingers he had inside of her, at first, but she could tell when he pushed another in, and then another. She felt stretched, and it hurt, a little, but she moved into the pain and then there was only the exquisite feeling of being filled. His tongue flicked at her and swirled around her as his fingers drove into her, and she shivered and shuddered and smacked uselessly at the ground and finally she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time, so long, almost, that she didn't recognize it when it began, the warmth building between her legs and rising and then spreading and she spat out "Don't stop, Malfoy, don't bloody stop," and it didn't occur to her that he might stop, just to be cruel. But he didn't and she came, her legs quivering, her hips bucking and pressing her sex harder against his mouth. He took his fingers out of her and grabbed her hips, holding her, shoving his tongue back inside her.

"How do I taste?" she asked, her voice rough from gasping.

"Like mud." It was an answer she had half-expected, but he caught her face in his hands and kissed her, and there was nothing cruel in his mouth moving against her own. She tasted herself, salty, with a metallic tang, on his tongue.

She climbed back onto his lap, lowering herself onto him. He pushed his hips up against her, thrusting farther up into her. Hermione let out her breath in a moan and moved with him, riding him, hard, her hands holding onto his shoulders. His hands spread across her arse, fingers pressing into her skin. It didn't take long for him to come. He bit her neck, and her earlobe, and then groaned against her ear, thrusting up as her arse slapped down onto his thighs one last time. He held her there and moved shallowly a few more times, panting. She was exhausted and leaned her head on his shoulder without thinking, but he did nothing more than run his fingers through her hair, which was somewhat tangled, and then curl his arm around her waist, brushing his fingers awkwardly and lightly along her side.

When they started to shiver, she got up and put her clothes back on. Malfoy did the same, and then they huddled under the blanket, without speaking. But his hands gripped her through the hours of the night, and she didn't complain when her fingers began to lose feeling.

She went back into the tent, once, to check on Harry and Ron. Harry stirred, and she told him that she wasn't tired, that she'd keep watching. He mumbled something and rolled over without ever really waking up.

When pale light began to spread from the edges of the sky, she stood on shaky legs. Malfoy stirred as her foot brushed against the blanket, and he opened his eyes.

"It's dawn," she told him. "They'll wake up soon." The last thing she wanted was for them to see her with him, and for them to infer (correctly) what they would from it.

Malfoy nodded. "Granger-"

She shook her head. "Not now. Nothing now."

"Alright." He stood; bunching the blanket up and handing it back to her. Hermione stared at him, studying his face, trying to decide what she saw in his eyes. They looked old and tired, and she suddenly felt very sad.


	8. Ron Weasley

**Ron Weasley**

For a fleeting moment, she realized that she must appear like a little schoolgirl idolizing a pop star as she was singing his praise on their way back to the Room of Requirement, but she brushed away this thought before it had the chance to settle in her mind. To her, this was the absolute truth. He truly had been amazing; he had shown nothing but greatness during the past hour as he had all by himself come up with the brilliant idea of retrieving the Basilisk fangs from the Chamber of Secrets, successfully imitated the complicated hiss that had opened the Chamber just from the memory of Harry doing it once, guided her through the dark eerie underground tunnel, yanked the fangs out of the mouth of the beast, supported her when she was to destroy Hufflepuff's Cup and then brought them safely back on the broom that he had had the thoughtfulness to summon before they had even descended. He had been so clever, so brave, so strong, so much of a leader, so…absolutely amazing!

Infuriating as they could sometimes be, his insecurities had always been one of the many reasons why she loved him as, all in all, she found them rather endearing. But now he had shown her his real self, the one that she had so often seen glimpses of during all those years but that he had never fully allowed himself to show- all those things that he was able to if he only believed in himself - and she was utterly stunned. Of course, this was only the top of it all. He had mentally grown so much during the past year, she could barely believe that this was the same boy - no, man - that, only months ago, would've spent weeks as a complete nervous wreck at the prospect of a Quidditch match that he had to play in. The present Ron was practically glowing with pride, whole and standing tall, as he told Harry what they had done in his absence and for the first time since she knew him, she saw him looking truly confident and completely satisfied with himself, and she felt so happy to see him like that and so, so proud. She hoped that all those astonishing things that he had done tonight would finally make him realize how great, how special, he was. Well, even if they wouldn't, she vowed to herself, she would certainly make sure that he never had to doubt himself again.

His happiness was contagious. It filled her chest with warmth and blew away nearly all rational thought, the last few scrapes of which were solely focused on suppressing her urge to throw herself at him and to hug him, tightly, and nerve let go. She actually had to physically restrain herself from doing so by strengthening her hold on the Basilisk fangs in her arms. By now, she might have accidentally cracked one or two of them.

Feeling strangely lightheaded, she barely registered that Harry was leading them back into the Room of Requirement, that more people were storming out of the Room into the battle zone. She thoroughly enjoyed this sensation, this sensation not to think, not to worry, not to doubt, but to just feel and let herself be swept away. She didn't that she had ever felt this alive.

Her brain only reconnected with the rest of her body at Ron's mention of house elves and she suddenly felt a most peculiar sensation in her stomach. Ron, of all persons, thinking about house-elves?

"We don't want any more Dobbys, do we?" he said, his voice strangely firm and clear and it oddly resounded in her east. "We can't order them to die for us-"

This did it. This was the final straw. The world stopped existing. In fact, nothing existed anymore except for the increasingly loud sound of her own blood rushing in her ears, and another wave of love and joy washed over her, overwhelming her. He, Ron, the boy who had always made fun of SPEW, had of his own accord, voice concern for house-elves, shown that he cared about the creatures that had always been so important to her, the defenseless, the suppressed, mirroring the status of herself in this regime, shown that he shared her values, that he understood her. It was as though his statement had created a bond between them and all the same torn down a wall inside of her. She thought her heart would burst with emotion if she didn't do anything with it.

So she did. She didn't care that they were in the midst of a raging war, didn't care that Harry was standing right next to them, didn't care about her year-long fear of rejection. With five long energetic strides over her fangs that wee now scattered on the floor (How did they get there? She couldn't remember letting go of them.), she closed the distance between him and herself, flung her arms around his neck, pulled him down to herself and crashed her lips against his.

His entire body tensed and for a split second, she thought that he would pull away, but she wouldn't have any of that. She only tightened her grip on him and intensified her kiss, pouring in six years worth of bottled-up love.

She faintly heard the sound of his fangs and broom clattering to the floor and then he wrapped his arms around her, too, holding her tight. She felt as though she were floating, wild joy running through her body, and if she hadn't been too busy kissing him, she would've screamed with glee. He was accepting her! He wanted her there, wanted her to kiss him! And it felt so, so right His arms felt so incredibly strong and she instantly felt safe in his embrace. This was where she belonged.

But what felt like a lifetime only lasted a second because the next moment, he scooped her up and rose to his full height, taking her with him so that she was raised slightly above him. Taken aback by this, she let out a little squeal into his mouth and tightly clung to his neck and shoulders to steady herself and, without even thinking about it, folded her legs around his waist. She felt his entire body tremble under the contact and she smiled against his lips, proud that she was able to induce such a reaction.

And then he kissed her back. And the beauty of it, this utter perfection, this fulfillment of her dearest wish made her heart hammer so violently against her ribs that she was certain that it must break out of her chest at any moment. It almost felt surreal to her, as though she was detached from her own body, and yet she was there, his strong hands holding her there. She had dreamt of this for so many years, had spent so many hours imagining what it must be like to kiss him, and now it was really happening and it was so much better than even her wildest fantasies. His kiss was passionate and yet tender, almost a little reluctant, as if he was afraid that this wasn't really happening, that she would break away from him at any moment or that he would wake up from a wonderful dream. But he wouldn't and she wasn't going to let go of him for anything in the world and made damn sure that he knew. Following a sudden urge, she slightly parted her lips and prodded the little gap between his lips with the tip of her tongue. His body shook even more as she gently ran her tongue across his lips and he understood.

She didn't know what she was supposed to do. It was true that she kissed Viktor all those years before (and, secretly, several other men as well, including two of Ron's brothers), but in defiance of all rumors, they had never gone this far. But she didn't care. She felt so happy, so elated. A hot fire of raw passion that she had never known she was capable of feeling was roaring in her heart, and Ron only helped her keeping it burn when he opened up to her and let her in.

Even despite their sparse meal of bread, cheese and mead hours ago, he tasted delicious; surely it was the same sort of magic that always made his hair smell the way she found so intoxicating. As carefully as her emotions allowed her, she started to explore him, still not quite believing that she was really there, inside him, and then her tongue found his, or perhaps it was the other way round. Their tongues danced around each other and he was treating her with so much tenderness and care that she started to feel slightly dizzy. She was so glad that he was holding her; she wasn't sure if she would've been able to stay upright on her own. She held him even closer, firstly to hold herself steady but even more so to give him back some of the happiness that he was giving to her, to let him know how much this meant to her, that he was wonderful and that she didn't want this to ever stop. Through their torn and tattered clothes, she could now feel the tough muscles of his torso against her. Her entire body tingled at this sensation and she pressed herself further against him, wanting to be closer, wanting to feel him. He gave a soft moan into her mouth, doubtlessly at the feel of her body against his. And this very sound sent her into overdrive, flaring up the fire in her heart. Suddenly, kissing him was just not enough, she decided, as she twined her tongue around his and vigorously sucked him into her, winding her arms and legs around him even more firmly, making sure that not even a piece of parchment would fit in between them. It simply wasn't. She wanted him.

But as fate would have it, his body didn't quite seem to agree as even though he desperately tried to keep his back rigid, his body was now shaking more violently than ever. She felt his arms become weak and she knew that he wouldn't be able to carry her much longer. With more than just a little regret, she slightly loosened the clutch of her legs on him and though she hadn't said a word, he understood and carefully let her down, lowering her back to her feet. He never moved his lips away from hers as he did, but that wasn't necessary. She wouldn't have allowed him anyway.

She vaguely took notice of Harry saying something, far, far away, and she knew that it meant that they would have to separate soon. They were in a war after all and still had a mission to accomplish. But she didn't want to let go of Ron and dreading the moment when she would have to, she desperately pressed him closer to her.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips, her voice strangely hoarse, and she could've sworn that her heart had catapulted itself several inches higher up, so strongly was it thumping with joy as she felt his mouth curve into a broad smile and he tightened his hold on her even more and started to gently rock them from side to side. She lightly giggled at his cuteness and he continued to kiss her with so much passion that literal tears of joy welled up in her eye.

"OI! There's a war going on here!" Harry suddenly yelled, so loud that they both terribly flinched and broke apart, though they remained in each other's embrace.

She was unable to register what Ron said as he replied to Harry, her mind for once too fuzzy to allow her to listen properly as she beamed up at him. With the boyish, slightly bashful grin that was plastered on his face, his flushed cheeks and his very disheveled hair, he was looking absolutely adorable. She was certain that she couldn't possibly love him more than she did at this very moment.

She was proven wrong when he looked down at her, smiling radiantly. His sky blue eyes were sparkling and they were full of admiration and so much sincere love. It took all her willpower not to plough into him and snog him again.

Harry had to shout to regain their attention and reluctantly, the pair let go, not taking their eyes off each other as they did. They bent to the floor to recollect the fangs and then followed Harry up the staircase, falling into a bit of a jog as they ascended. She looked up at Ron who was running beside her and she saw him gazing at her, beaming brightly.

She was happy like she had never been before. He was finally hers. It didn't matter what would happen in the next minute, hours, days. As long as he was with her, it would be alright.


	9. Harry Potter

**Harry Potter**

The Battle of Hogwarts was over, but at a terrible price. Both Harry and Hermione had lost their one true loves, Ginny and Ron, respectively, in the fighting. The last few days had been trying to comfort each other to little avail. Harry had felt such pity for his friend that he had begun to feel new feelings of love for her. Which had given him the brilliant idea that the only way either of them could move on was to turn to each other for the love they now lacked. He just had to convince Hermione of the same…by seducing her.

* * *

A few days later, Harry waited nervously by the old oak tree next to the lake. It was in a secluded area of the grounds, far away from the castle, and a favorite private hangout for him and his friends. In the distance, he could suddenly make out a head of bushy brown hair coming towards him. Hermione Granger. This was it…

As she neared, Harry suppressed the last of his nerves and managed a smile. "Hello," Hermione greeted him with a hug that made his insides do one last flip-flop. "It's so good to see you."

"Same," Harry said almost breathlessly. He could not take his eyes off her. She was so lovely, especially in that Gryffindor uniform with the skirt.

"It's a beautiful day. I'm glad you wanted to come out here and talk."

"Yes," Harry replied and a sudden surge of adrenaline rushed through him. He put his arms around her, pulling her close; one hand reached for her cheek. Hermione was startled, but her question of "What are you doing?" contained more curiosity than anxiety.

"I can't take it anymore." Harry hissed and gripping her by the back of the neck, he kissed her passionately.

"Mmm!" Hermione groaned in surprise. As Harry kissed her, she naturally struggled against it, using her hands to push against his torso.

"No," she said, disengaging herself from his lips. "Harry, you have to focus on helping our world heal." She said it almost sadly, as if she were reluctant to refuse. There was something in her eyes as well, barely perceptible, Harry noted. Something dark…was it…lust? Encouraged by this, Harry smiled.

"Did you like that?" he asked before kissing her again. Hermione moaned in protest once more, now thrashing her head from side to side to break the lip-lock.

"No, please!" she implored. "I don't want this!" But Harry was already on her once more. "No…No!" Her refusal was only slightly muffled now by Harry's mouth so as to be intelligible. Her arms pushed against him desperately now, but with Harry's one hand at her waist and the other gripping the back of her head, she could not move. She jerked away yet again, even as Harry continued to plant kisses along her face. "No, this isn't right." she concluded. That was all see could say before Harry was on the attack again, his mouth finding his way back to, and consuming, hers.

Harry had her in a vice-like grip now. It was not painful, just strong and firm. Hermione continued to struggle, though she could no longer free her lips from his, much less her body.

"Mmmm….Mmm! Mm-hmm! Hmm!" she groaned, as Harry made his move. His hand shifted down from Hermione's waist to stroke her bum. Hermione's pushing and obscured cries reached a fever pitch, a panic at this touch. She pushed at his head, his face now, anything to make him release her. What is he doing? Hermione thought wildly. Why is he touching me -?

Suddenly, she felt her leg hitch up and around Harry's waist. Oddly, there was no resistance here; it was almost involuntary.

And in that moment, everything changed. It was like someone had flipped a switch in Hermione's brain. She suddenly liked this, this side of Harry and what he was making her body do. She thought that she was something of an expert on magic, but this was an entirely new kind.

"Mmm?….Mmmmmmm…" she hummed, her muffled cries turning in sighs of pleasure. Her arm, which had moments before been fighting Ron, now snaked at the elbow around his neck. Her hands played with his hair. Harry held her ever closer, his arms across her back.

And then she kissed him back. They were snogging desperately. Triumphant, Harry began to dip her backwards. Hermione's murmurs turned fearful for a moment, as she felt herself go backwards with no balance, but Harry had her. They landed softly on a stone bench that was there. As they kissed, the pair thrashed along on the seat like a pair of eels. Hermione's hands danced along Harry's face and draped along his body as he held her, and they rolled around in each other's embrace. Harry stroked Hermione's cheek as he feasted upon her puffy, full mouth. Harry finally let up on her lips and kissed her face. Hermione sighed, her eyes half-closed out of pleasure as he ravished her. Another peck on the lips, and then he stopped to lovingly brush the hair out of her face. Both were breathing heavily, panting. Staring at each other, they chuckled and shared another, far more chaste kiss. Hermione was his now.

Hermione suddenly stood. A flash of inspiration had hit her. She pulled Harry to his feet. Noting his look of perplexion, she put a finger to his lips. "Trust me," she whispered. She then took out her wand and muttered "Wingardium Leviosa." Harry floated off the ground. "Revolvo." Harry now hung upside down. "Clottonia brachium." Harry felt his head become fuzzy and the blood naturally rushing to his brain seemed to halt.

Hermione then levitated herself off the ground so that she and Harry were at eye level. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him gently, her lips molding and flowing against his. After a long moment, they broke apart. Hermione floated slightly higher, so that Harry had no choice but to look at her chest. She gently guided his hands to her shirt, and he understood. Undoing the buttons, Harry revealed Hermione's bra, which he then unclasped to reveal her bare breasts. He could feel Hermione tugging at his pants zipper above him and cool air rush in as his hard cock was exposed from its confines.

Perfection now began as Harry buried his mouth into the valley of Hermione's breasts and feasted on her swollen, perky nipples. At the same time, Hermione took all of Harry's cock into her mouth and viciously sucked. Both moaned as each fucked the other simultaneously. Harry had always known Hermione was brilliant, but he had never expected such sexual genius from her. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he gave a animalistic grunt as he came into Hermione's mouth. He could feel Hermione gulp down his juices greedily before her lips disengaged from his cock. Then, she pushed his floating body down so his head was level with her pants, which she quickly evaporated to reveal her womanhood. She wanted him to get her off now too. Harry plunged his face into her vagina and heard Hermione respond at once, letting out an erotic mixture of a gasp, a whimper and a scream. She bucked her hips into his head again and again, and Harry felt himself groan again, as she began another round of sucking on his cock. It was probably all she could do to muffle her screams of pleasure at what he was doing to her.

Both came so hard they saw stars; he in her mouth and she on his face. When both had recovered, they released the spells on themselves and lowered back to Earth.

"Hermione," Harry asked. "I know we are still getting over losing who we loved. But, if we love each other, maybe we can get through the pain together. So…will you marry me?" Hermione smiled sadly, but with gratitude. That was a yes.

* * *

The marriage of the Boy Who Lived and the Greatest Witch of Her Age was the wedding of the century. Rita Skeeter proclaimed that she had been right all along about the couple's feelings for each other, but neither paid attention. Nor did they care. For nine months later, a baby girl was born to them, with her mother's bushy brown hair and her father's sparkling green eyes. They named her Rowena Ginevra, because it was the closest name they could find that resembled Ron's for his memory.


	10. Neville Longbottom

**Neville Longbottom**

About two years after Rowena was born, Harry was forced to leave on an extended Auror mission. Hermione, meanwhile, was tasked by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to investigate illicit activity in populated wizarding villages. She had to travel extensively for this task, which left her no choice but to place Rowena in the care of her parents.

Her job eventually took her to Diagon Alley. She was given an extended board in the Leaky Cauldron. There she met an old friend: Neville Longbottom. He was working on scholarly research for Herbology…while waiting for the Professorship on the subject to be vacant at Hogwarts.

It soon became a daily routine for Hermione and Neville to see each other. He would be there working in the upstairs flat he and his wife, barmaid Hannah Abbott, shared above the pub whenever Hermione came home from her investigative duties.

One evening, Neville was working over a Fanged Geranium feverishly. He was testing out the theory that a tenth medicinal usage for the plant existed, and would be a windfall for him if he was successful. Ever the scholar, Hermione sat on the four-poster bed, watching him. Hannah was away on business for the weekend.

"Alright, Hermione, this is it," Neville called. He dropped a chemical mixture out of a beaker onto the leaves. The leaves fizzled and then turned white hot as a bubbly gas began to seep out of them. Neville expertly plucked one from the branch and applied it to a purposeful cut on his arm that he had made earlier. Almost instantly, the cut faded away to only a scar. He laughed triumphantly and Hermione squealed.

"Oh, Neville, I knew you could do it! I just knew it!" she cried it. So great was her joy that she threw her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth. After a moment, she pulled away, mortified at what she had just done. Neville looked surprised too, then broke into an almost maniacal grin.

"Bloody Merlin!" he cried, and pulled her back into his arms, returning her kiss feverishly. Hermione let out a tiny whimper as their lips met. Soon, they were making out. Neville's hands wandered down her back, her bum and then to her thighs. He expertly hoisted Hermione up into the air, and she draped her arms over his shoulders to steady herself. Neville threw them both down on the bed. They trashed and kissed as both grabbed at each other's clothes. "Mmmm….mmm…" Hermione moaned. She groped for her wand and then cast a Diffindo charm. Her spell was muffled by Neville's mouth on hers, but her wand obeyed. Rips could be heard as both their clothes tore apart and fell away. Hermione wrenched her lips momentarily free from Neville's to gasp, "Do you have any protection?"

"No," Neville replied huskily.

"Me neither." They went right back at it. Neville stroked Hermione's vagina and she instantly felt wetness cascade around middle. She groaned and spread her legs wider, but Neville had other ideas. He pulled her up into they both were in a kneeling position. He continued to kiss her as he then spun her around so her back was to him. He then stood up on the mattress and the next second, Hermione's legs were up in the air. The wheelbarrow position. She had heard of it, but never had tried it before. Hermione lay there in a slanted handstand as Neville thrust himself into the crack of her arse. It was painful at first, but then subsided. The assuredness of the technique never wavered, and Hermione found that being fucked this way turned her on. "Oh…ohhh….OHHHH! Yes, Neville, yes!" she shrilly shrieked. Finally, she felt Neville come inside her. Both belly flopped onto the bed beside each other, exhausted. They smiled and kissed, rolling over in each other's embrace.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione woke up beside Neville in his bed. As she watched him sleep, rational thought returned to her after she had abandoned it the previous night. She couldn't keep an affair going with Neville. She did love him, but she wanted to remain faithful to Harry, even if he was away until further notice and likely would not find out. Even if he didn't, Hannah would. Hermione could do illicit activity, but not anything that would get out eventually. She kissed Neville awake.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, but…I can't do this. We can't. It's wrong. If anyone were to find out, it would be the end for both of us and our careers. Neither of us can afford that, but especially not you with all the success that's going to come your way."

Neville understood. Within the next few days, Hermione had completed her DMLE activities and ended her stay at the Leaky Cauldron. She said goodbye to Neville in his room while Hannah was downstairs brewing, giving him a clandestine kiss as she left. Many months later, while caring for Rowena and with Harry now home, she would be happy to learn that Neville's discovery had been patented, he had published an academic paper on the subject and had been awarded the Herbology professorship at Hogwarts.


	11. Tom Riddle

**Tom Riddle**

Harry had died. Hermione was heartbroken, but she knew she had to move on. She still had Rowena to care for. Still, it was hard not to have her husband with her.

Work had been able to get her mind off dreary things like this. One day, she had tasked by the DMLE with cleaning out some old artifacts. To her surprise, she discovered the mangled remains of Hufflepuff's cup…partly filled with liquid. Hermione still did not know what had then possessed her to take a drink from the former Horcrux, but the next thing she knew, she had gone back in time a good half-century, and had de-aged a couple years so that she resembled her 17-year-old self. She had confided her secret to Dumbledore, alive again and still only a professor at the school, and he arranged for her to be an exchange student under an alias until they could figure out a way to get her back to her time.

It was now that Hermione, aka Artemis Morgan, met the young and dashing Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort. She had not understood why he was drawn to her from the start, until he learned through invading her memories that he had succeeded in what was his current search of how to make Horcruxes. Tom had then informed her that he knew who Hermione really was and that she now was a Horcrux herself, much as Harry had been (or would be. Hermione was confused about tenses now that she had changed times). Thus, Hermione had no choice but to become a servant to the aspiring Lord Voldemort, even as she worked to ensure he would not learn from the mistakes he would make in the future and maintain the space-time continuum.

These thoughts were swirling through Hermione's brain as she went to dinner one evening, when Tom intercepted her in the hall. He was intimidatingly insistent, but Hermione had to pretend like she was complacent. Tom had come up with the brilliant idea of the two of them dating to hide their illicit activities and explain their being seen together. With that, Hermione had to follow Tom to his Prefect chamber in the Slytherin Common Room.

Once they were inside, she felt his arms encircle her waist and felt his teeth gently on her neck. Hermione jumped.

"What are you doing?" she snapped.

"Isn't this what we're supposed to be doing?" he taunted in her ear. "Or would you rather wait until after dinner. Because evidently, that's when I usually want it."

Hermione stiffened as his hands moved to the clasp of her robe and unfastened it. She fumed. He was testing her to see how far she would let him go after what had happened in the forest. This was the first time they had been truly alone together. He wanted to know how Hermione would respond to him, not Artemis. She knew he expected her to pull away from him and then a battle of wills would ensue as he tried to terrorize her with whatever he was mad about this time…and Hermione knew what he was mad about this time since she had planned it.

But Hermione had a different idea of how this would play out. She wanted to terrorize _him_.

Hermione turned to face him and with all the courage she could muster, she smiled at him through her eyelashes and placed her hands on hi shoulders.

He raised his eyebrows at her, apparently not expecting this sudden display of affection. Hermione turned him and steered him to an armchair, surprised that he was letting her control him so far. Maybe he was just curious to see what she would do. Hermione lightly pushed him back into an armchair and climbed onto his lap.

"Trying to gain the upper hand?" Tom asked nonchalantly, lying back into the chair. Hermione noticed she was not having much of an effect on him. She realized that with less of a soul he was less attached to her. She frowned at him and placed her hands at either side of him on the arms of the chair. He smirked at her. Now Hermione found herself testing him, trying to see how she could affect him, if at all. Surely she could…she was still his Horcrux.

"I'm just acting like a good girlfriend should," she said, lowering her face to his.

He chuckled and Hermione kissed him. She began slow, trying to entice a reaction out of him. It was true; she did not affect him as she had before. She would have to try harder. She bit his lower lip and moved her hands to the front of his robes, pushing them off his shoulders.

He was still fairly unresponsive. She began to unbutton his shirt, kissing him harder. After failing to gain a response from him once more, Hermione pulled away from him and gasped for air.

"Anxious, aren't we?" he said looking over her flushed state. "What are you trying to do, Hermione?"

Hermione glared at him. She wasn't sure whether to be offended or not. He had just taken her not too long ago and here he was acting as though she were a pathetic schoolgirl trying this for the first time.

She figured she would no longer be able to manipulate him this way, and began to move off him. He grabbed her waist, stopping her. She looked at him incredulously.

"Where are you going, Hermione? I've just decided, I don't want to wait until after dinner after all."

He pulled her back toward him and kissed her hard like she had been doing to him only moments before. Hermione was surprised… and confused. She pulled out of the kiss.

"Wasn't there something you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked breathlessly as his hand made its way under her skirt.

"That can wait," he said kissing her neck and using his other hand to open her blouse. "I wouldn't want to deny you what you seemed so eager for."

Hermione shuddered at the vibrations his voice made on her neck. She felt strange. Why were they doing this? She knew he could stop himself if he wanted. He did not need her and she didn't need him.

Tom kissed her again and Hermione complied, parting her lips and allowing his tongue to roam her mouth. She had given up pretending she was not attracted to him ages ago. They kissed each other as Tom used his wand to discard Hermione's panties. Hermione almost protested. But before she had a chance, he had released himself and entered her.

Hermione gasped and arched her back, pulling out of his kiss. Tom pulled her back quickly, kissing her harshly as their breathing became more ragged. Tom placed his hands on her waist and pulled her down, entering her more fully. Hermione moaned in pain into his mouth but he would not let her move away. Hermione was forced to press into him in order to ease the pain. It worked fairly well. Hermione felt a burst of pleasure and found herself kissing him passionately.

His movements became harder as he gripped her hips. Hermione's hands were griping the back of his chair, supporting herself.

Hermione saw stars as she was brought to orgasm, Tom following moments after and sending Hermione over the edge again.

Tom finally released her lips and Hermione collapsed on top of him, panting for air. It took a few moments for Hermione to come to herself again, but as soon as she had she looked at him to gauge his reaction. Besides being a bit out of breath as well, he seemed on a whole unaffected. He was resting his head on the back of his chair coolly, gripping her waist casually.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. He had only been using her. This should not have made her angry because of course Lord Voldemort had been using her since they had met, but she had more of a reason to feel ashamed. Upon righting her clothes, she stormed out of the Common Room in a huff. She somehow had to escape from this time and Riddle and beat him so Harry had a chance to beat him in the future.


	12. Zacharias Smith

**Zacharias Smith**

Once Hermione had finally managed to escape Tom Riddle's time, she returned to the present. Her presence had not disrupted the time space continuum. Voldemort was still defeated, she still had Rowena…and Harry was still dead.

Hermione took to her duties again at DMLE, explaining her time travel incident to curious friends by making up a story about staying with a distant relative to take a break from work. Still, her job was hard. She found solace in an old friend and fellow DA member from Hogwarts, Zacahrias Smith. He worked in Diagon Alley and offered to help care for Rowena until Hermione came home from work. He turned out to be her lifesaver and Hermione quickly got used to having him around.

One evening, Hermione called Zach to say that she would be held up late. Zach quickly rolled with it and said he could take Rowena out to eat and gave her the restaurant address. "Just meet us there when you can," he told her.

Hermione later arrived and joined her friend and daughter. Just then, who should also show up but Viktor Krum. He had aged since Hermione had last seen him, when she had kissed him after fourth year. But, he had also become much ruder. He barged in and made himself at home at their table, and did not try to hide the fact that he was clearly hitting on Hermione. He was also peeved that Zach was there, or Rowena for that matter, and referred to the former as Hermione's "husband." Hermione quickly refuted this, embarrassed and Zach oddly took a sudden interest in the carpet. Viktor even insulted Zach on several occasions, trying to draw out that there was something between Zach and Hermione. From there, the dinner turned into an awkward mess. Hermione had known Viktor had had a messy divorce a few years back (it had been all over the news), but this was ridiculous! It took all of her manners not to storm off from the table in anger.

Finally, the trio rid themselves of Viktor and headed back to Hermione's house. Once they were safely inside and Rowena had been put to bed, Hermione tried to comfort Zach. Zach wouldn't hear any of it though.

"Just forget it," he told her. "It doesn't matter."

"It does Zacharias," she said. "I don't like seeing you like this. You've been my life saver."

"I just don't like Rowena being around him. Or you. Isn't it awkward enough for you, knowing that he snogged you when you were young and then nothing ever came of it? Like all you were to him was some fling?"

Hermione could tell he wanted to say more, but he didn't add anything to what he was saying. She then remembered what Viktor had said earlier, that maybe Zacharias liked her.

Zacharias chose this moment to turn to look at her, and he looked hard into her eyes. She could see tears forming in them, and saw a drowning man who couldn't have what he wanted just as Viktor had described. What took her so long to notice his feelings?

"Zach…if you want to tell me something…" she began, a little bit hesitant. "If you want to tell me something tell me now before you regret it."

He looked at her, trying to look curious when she could tell he knew exactly what she was talking about. Hermione decided at this point that if he told her that he was in love with her, she would give herself over to him. She would try to love him back and eventually marry him, live happily with a nice guy who she knew would treat both her and her daughter well, because that way she wouldn't need to have the troublesome Viktor Krum pestering her for the rest of her life.

"I…"

Hermione could feel herself straining to hear him tell her those three words. Her fists clenched nervously as she watched him watching her watching him in such a manner. She could see that he did want to tell her something, but wasn't sure if he should, that it might ruin their close friendship that they had, the bond that grew over the past few years.

When nothing more came out of Zacharias, Hermione decided to let the matter drop for now. She got up and began to cross the room to go check on Rowena. She felt his presence beside her suddenly.

"Hermione."

"What?" she asked, turning to him. And then he was kissing her desperately, his arms having seized her by the waist and pulled her flush against him. Hermione moaned in relief and found her eyes closing almost instantaneously. Zach picked her up as both arms now embraced her, so that Hermione's feet were barely brushing the ground. Hermione reciprocated with her one arm, still eliciting muffled sighs as they kissed. They snogged open-mouthed now, Zach breaking away for the briefest instant for air, before an arm encircled Hermione's neck and his lips immersed themselves into hers once more. Their tongues battled for dominance, and Hermione could feel how warm Zach's mouth was, and it felt wonderful.

Zach slowly began to dip her back, holding her at the neck and his lips never leaving hers. Hermione's hand adjusted to his shoulder as she fought to steady herself. The couple awkwardly sank to the floor in a kneeling position, still kissing and their hands slowly moving up and down each other's backs.

"Mmm…mmmm…mmaahhh…." Hermione moaned and then gasped as she briefly disengaged from Zacharias's lips to breathe. She captured his lips yet again, nibbling eagerly on his upper lip. They shifted again as Zach pulled her closer, and Hermione thought they might tip over if they kept this up. But, she did not care and held Zacharias and closed her eyes as he ravaged her lips, just enjoying it. At long last, they tenderly broke apart, and stood. Hermione melted into his arms, and Zach held her, a look of joy and pride on his face. Nothing else needed to be said. Their future together was official. For now, just being together was enough.


End file.
